


Echoes of the Past (Visions of the Future)

by intothenowhere



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Background Relationships, Canon Compliant, Coda, Family Feels, Gen, Humor, Light Angst, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 18:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13957497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothenowhere/pseuds/intothenowhere
Summary: 5x12 Coda: Jemma patches Deke up after his encounter with a Kree warrior manifested from the fear dimension.





	Echoes of the Past (Visions of the Future)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leopoldjamesfitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopoldjamesfitz/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> A massive thanks to Kris for sparking the idea for this fic, by bringing up Jemma bandaging Deke up after an accident and him being reminded of his mother. 
> 
> Of course, since there was an opportunity present in canon for this exact thing to happen, I decided to leap for it.

“Who would've thought an imaginary Kree would leave such an impression,” Deke muttered as the tiny biochemist all but shoved him toward her makeshift hospital wing. 

 

The biochemist - Simmons, he reminded himself - began rifling through a drawer in a desk, so Deke plopped down on  a metal table, the only nearby surface without much clutter on it. 

 

“You’re lucky it was only skin deep,” Simmons admonished, her look and tone so severe that Deke mildly felt like a kid who’d be found with his hand in a cookie jar, whatever those were. “It could've been much worse.”

 

Deke tore his gaze away from Simmons to the adjacent room where he knew Elena was laying. Suddenly, the gash in his arm didn't seem too concerning.

 

Regardless, Simmons moved in front of him, and surgically snipped off the sleeve of his shirt. “You can borrow one of Fitz’s,” she said kindly, a smile spreading on her face. Deke decided he liked her smile, it was warm and reminded him of his mother's. “You look to be about the same size.”

 

Deke winced as she wiped alcohol across the wound, but that pain was nothing compared to the needle and thread she brought over to sew up the gash.

 

“God,” Deke hissed, “haven't you got like….something to numb the pain? Like Zima, or something.”

 

The look he got in return was scathing. “I'm currently the most wanted on every government watchlist, and I just returned home from a jaunt to the dystopian future. I haven't had the time or resources to buy Zima.”

 

“Wow, a simple 'no’ would have sufficed.” Deke retorted, only to hiss again as Simmons ruthlessly continued her work. “So, uh, you and this Fitz guy. You're engaged, right?”

 

Simmons eyed him warily. “Yes, we are.”

 

“Right. That's good, you're both good…” why the hell was he rambling? “You seem to fit. Like my parents. Not that...you are my parents, god that would be weird.”

 

“Are you sure you haven't any Zima already?” Simmons quipped, not unkindly as she snipped off the extra thread and moved away from him.

 

“Not today,” Deke replied. “Unfortunately. You know, I'm not usually this awkward or ramble-y. Well, I am, but…not as weird.”

 

“I'm engaged to man who’s awkward and ramble-y, Deke. So I wouldn't sweat it.” Simmons replied with a smile, before she redirected her attention back to his arm. “You’ll be fine so long as you don't pull your stitches. So, no more bar fights.”

 

“That was one time,” Deke protested. “And Daisy was suppose to keep that a secret.”

 

“Welcome to SHIELD,” Simmons replied. “We keep the world's secrets safe, but not our own.”

 

“Seems like a shitty trade off,” Deke commented, sliding off the table. “Thanks for...well not for the stitches, those sucked, but thanks for patching me up.” 

 

Simmons faltered and blinked at him. “Thank you? Did you just say ‘thank you?’”

 

“I'm a scoundrel, not a douchebag.” Another look. “Alright, I'm not a douchebag all the time. But I do appreciate you….” He faltered; so many years in the Lighthouse had all but beaten the manners his mother had instilled in him, taught to her by her own parents. “You know, not letting me die.”

 

“It's just a gash, Deke. You won't die from it. But you're welcome.” Simmons said with another smile, and Deke hesitates once more, because there, standing in the warm glow of the ceiling light, Jemma Simmons looked almost like the spitting image of his mother.

 

With a quick mental shake and a seize of his heart, Deke nodded, and quickly abandoned the room, stopping at the doorway to turn back around. “Congrats, by the way.”

 

Simmons turned with a frown born of confusion on her face.

 

“The engagement,” Deke explained. “Congratulations.” 

 

Without waiting for her response, Deke left the room in a hurry, tears inexplicably in his eyes, and the screams of his mother as she was executed echoing in his ears.

 

Hours later, when Coulson instructed him to find rings and a dress for the two lovebirds - FitzSimmons, they were called - the sight of a cool, silver ring with a single pearl was enough for him to decide that was the one for Simmons.

 

After all, it was perfect wasn't it? The woman who reminded him so much of his own mother, taking a ring that so resembled his grandmother's ring.

 

(If only he knew.)

  
  



End file.
